


The Sweet Heat Of Her Breath in My Mouth (I'm Alive)

by Anonymous



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Sex, Camping, Consent, Consentual Sex, Fluff and Smut, Harley and peter are in their early to mid twenties, Hnnn this is bad im sorry, I think?, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prepping, Rain, Sex, Smut, Tent Sex, blame my friends, how do I tag smut, uhhh, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25622794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: ""Shut up," Peter whines, though his faint laughing proves that he isn't actually upset about the tease, and Harley assumes it gonna be left at that, until the shorter boy sits up slightly, the bunch of blankets following him and creating a cave of the separation of their bodies, before Peter is pressing back in, higher up, and pushing their lips together with a pressure, a passion, a burning. Harley didn't expect this, but he damn sure isn't complaining about it"~~Aka the boys have sex in a tent
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Comments: 6
Kudos: 172
Collections: Anonymous





	The Sweet Heat Of Her Breath in My Mouth (I'm Alive)

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally for parkner week, but then I realized I didn't really want smut for one of the days, especially when it barely met the prompts
> 
> So here, take this filth and enjoy it while it lasts, cause it'll probably get deleted eventually out of paranoia and embarassment :)

"Why did you think this was a good idea, again?" Harley drawls, a slight shiver running through him and causing the soaked shirt to stick to his skin even more as he stares out the still open door of the tiny tent they had found themselves in, watching the steady streams of rain hit heavily against the ground, where they had stood only moments before.

"It isn't so bad!" Peter cries, throwing his arms out and spraying Harley by accident, also soaked to the bone, his eyebrows raised and eyes alight with excitement even while in this sticky situation.

Harley stifles a sigh. Maybe a better question would have been, why did he have to _a_ _gree_ to this idea?

It was brought up for the first time a few months ago, randomly and sporadically- the way Peter seems to work, he doesn't know why he was surprised. He had been making a cooked dinner for them, stirring spaghetti over the stove when his boyfriend was suddenly behind him, exclaiming a quick and excited, "We should go camping!"

Harley had jumped about three feet in the air, having not noticed the slightly shorter man approch, before giving him a look of bewilderment and _what the fuck, where did that come from?_ Peter had then spent the rest of the night rambling to him about how he had watched a bunch of nature documentaries and how romantic it could be and how much they should go, _"Come on, Harley, we should go! Please??"_ And Harley wished he had more self restraint, but when Peter gives him _that look_ \- the one with the big doe eyes, shining in the light, his bottom lip slightly pursed out, and that completely look of pure hope on his features- Harley can't help but to give him. He, thankfully, has _enough_ self restraint to keep their jobs, though, as Peter would've made them leave _right at that moment_ if Harley hadn't reminded him that they're CEO and COO of Stark Industries and that they can't just up and leave whenever they wanted to, even if they did _technically_ own the company now.

So, they set a date, right at the end of April (which is such a stupid decision in hindsight), and spend the next two months working, planning and preparing for their excursion, Peter thrilled and Harley... begrudging, but accepting. Harley didn't quite enjoy the outdoors as much as some people did. He grow up a small town in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, where there was nothing to do _but_ go outside and play, and honestly, Harley had hated most to all of it. He disliked the chill of the wind, and the feeling of drizzle on his skin, the feeling of grass brushing against his ankles made him itch and don't even get him _started_ on the bugs. _But,_ he saw how happy the idea made Peter, saw his grin, watched him glow every time the trip was brought up, and honestly? That was all that mattered.

Now, though, he kind of wishes he had brought up his concerns.

He had noticed a few days before they left that the weather was looking kind of dim for the rest of the week, especially for the day they had chosen to go, but he had _hoped_ that maybe the storm would've passed over early, hitting sooner in the week, or later, going into the weekend. The meteorologists weren't always right, the weather was unpredictable, maybe just this once it would work in their favor right?

When they had left the day of, headed south and out of the city, the sky had been a dark gray, the clouds looking angry, heavy, a slight swirl in the atmosphere and a certain smell in the air, but Harley had _still_ hoped that it would wait until tomorrow to start pouring from the heavens. But nope.

They had gotten enough time to get to the campgrounds, hike to their reserved spot, put up their tents and to start a fire, just for the flames to be immediately reduced to smoke as the rain came down in sheets, drenching both of the men as they ran into safety, shelter, stuffing themselves into the bigger of the two tents, which was still a tight squeeze seeing as it was meant for one, two at the max.

And now, they stared out in shock, as the rain feel harder and harder, and the wind started picking up slightly, shaking their tent and changing the direction of the rain, Peter shutting the zipper on the door just before the any more liquid can seep into the plastic. Peter shivers then, hard, and it snaps Harley out of this thoughts, causing him to shift gears because _shit, his thermoregulation._ Or, his lack there of, anyways. He drops to his knees and scoots forward to where his bag is laid- thankfully, they had gotten the chance to put their bags into the tent before the storm had hit, so most of their stuff was still dry-, unzipping the bag and digging into it, finding one of his bigger, warmer sweaters and a pair of bulkier pants before throwing it at the younger boy, who catches it without thinking, immediately starting to strip his wet clothing for the newer, drier ones. Harley finds another set for himself, and quickly does the same, tossing his shirt over his head and kicking off his pants and his boxers before replacing them with a pair of fluffy pj bottoms and a dry t-shirt.

He drops the sogged clothes next to the bag, Peter following suit soon after, Harleys eyes following his still trembling hands to notice that, while he was now in dry clothing, Harley's large sweater falling off of his shoulders, covering his hands and falling to his mid thigh and the pants fitting well, his entire body was still shivering, his teeth chattering even as Harley can see him trying to keep quiet, and Harley feels a noise come up his throat as he stands, grabbing one of the blanket they had placed onto ground and wrapping it around his boyfriends shoulders, before pulling him into his chest, the way Peter doesn't argue and just presses further into his chest proving just how cold he truly is, how bad he feels.

Harley gently eases them onto the ground over the blanket cushioning their bodies and grabbing an extra one to place over Peter before pulling him onto his chest, the brunet ice cold nose nuzzling into his collarbones and his shuttering breath puffing against his skin. Harley makes sure to run his hands up and down Peter's back, shoulders and arms heavily, feeling the goosebumps under his finger tips as he tries to force the warmth into Peter's body tries to warm him up and dry off his still wrinkled skin. Thankfully, after a while of just breathing, holding him close and rubbing, listening to the rain hit the plastic above them steadily, the shutters running through his body slow to a stop, his skin warming beneath his hands and his body relaxing more and more, until Peter is a puddle under the sheets, lax and at ease under Harley's motions. Or at least, he _seems_ as such, until he shifts and Harley realizes that _part_ of him isn't.

He snorts, grinning. "Is that your phone, or are you happy to see me?"

"Shut up," Peter whines, though his faint laughing proves that he isn't actually upset about the tease, and Harley assumes it gonna be left at that, until the shorter boy sits up slightly, the bunch of blankets following him and creating a cave of the separation of their bodies, before Peter is pressing back in, higher up, and pushing their lips together with a pressure, a passion, a burning. Harley didn't expect this, but he _damn sure isn't complaining about it_ , letting out a faint groan as he kisses back heavily and lock his arms around his waist, flipping them over just to hear the squeal and giggle it causes, the blankets falling to the floor beside them with a thump.

Peter doesn't seem to mind the lack of fabric, Harley's warmth pressing down against him, his fingertips leaving sparks that roar into a fire in his gut, burning him from the inside out as he scraps his teeth against Harley's bottom lip and slips his tongue into his mouth, brushing against his teeth, their noses rubbing together in their intensity. Harley tilts his head to deepen the kiss even more, and to press them closer together, his hips jerking forward subconsciously and making them brush against each other, both moaning into each others mouths, Peter clawing at his back and making his hips tilt forward again.

He pulls back for air, the air doing nothing to cool the heat in his chest, his lungs, his heart beating out of his chest as presses rapid, heavy, heated kisses down down down, from the corner of his mouth, to his cheek, following his jawline down to his neck, sucking on his Adam's apple as Peter tilts his head back with a loud whine, his fingernails digging in deeper, and _god_ do those noises do something to him, a wind fanning the flames growing in his groin. He drags his teeth and marks the side of his neck as he slips his hands down his shirt, until they go underneath, feeling up his abs, muscles and pecs carved perfectly under the hands of a sculpter before they dip back down again, down to his hips, his v line, his-

"Please," Peter begs, pleads, his knees tightening around Harley's waist and his back arching as the blond reaches the waistband of the pants he had given him only moments, minutes before, and Harley can only respond with a groan, a moan, words gone as his mind fills with ways to please his lover. Anything, it means, anything for you, I love you, I need you, _anything._

He lifts up slightly, shushing Peter's whine with kisses to his cheekbones, his eyelids as he reaches up blindly for the bag, zipping open the front pocket and grabbing the bottle of lube he knew he had put in there (he had figured something like this was going to happen, had known it was one of the reasons Peter had dragged him out here in the first place), and a condom, teasing his fingers under the waistline. He places the two retrieved items beside them before finally, finally giving Peter want he (and Harley, honestly) wants, reaching down and grabbing at his dick with a firm grip, watching intently as Peter bucks up with a loud gasp turning into a heavy groan, eyes squeezed shut and face a bright crimson, full of an overwhelming pleasure that makes Harley lose his own breath, and its only when Peter peaks an eye open to glance at him does Harley realize he's been staring too long, making him press back down with a open mouthed kiss and a quick flick of his wrist, the loud moan he got in return a vibration around his tongue.

He does a few more jerks, cataloging how Peter wriths and thrusts into his grip, before Harley pushes Peter's pants down until their twisted around his ankles, and lowers his hand, past his balls and down to rub dry at his hole, pulling away just to listen to Peter whimper and whine. He can't help the quiet " _shit_ " that escapes his lips, nor the way he falls back into another passionate kiss grabbing at the lube before pulling away again completely, breathing heavily. He stares deeply into Peter's eyes, his midnight black pupils swallowing his iries until theres only a caramel ring surrounfing them, blown out in a way that makes him look high, or like he was fucked already, only glancing away from the beautiful sight to make sure to he's squirting the liquid onto his hand, to make sure he had the right amount (plenty, to make sure Peter feels as little discomfort as possible). He makes sure his fingers are covered, before he sucks another hickey onto the crook of Peter's jaw, a sensitive spot he knows about the multiple times they've done this, and gently, gentle gentle, has to be gentle, pushes in one finger.

Peter immediately tenses and Harley starts murmuring sweet nothings into his ear, nipping at his ear lobe and whispering reassurances, holding so so still until, after a few breaths, Peter relaxes, and Harley can start moving, small, little thrusts, tiny flicks of the tip of his finger, paying attention to everything little hick and shaky breath, every movement, until he feels Peter pushing down softly, until he knows he can move faster, harder- still not rough, still soft, gentle, easy, but _harder_ -, until he's bringing most of his finger out and thrusting back in to make Peter sing, unintelligible noises spilling from his lips now. Harley can feel himself throb, longs to just push in now, to make Peter scream and make them both see stars, but he holds himself back, adding another finger the next time he pulls out, and this time, Peter tenses a little, only for a second, before Harley is twisting his fingers and brushing against his prostate, and then he's easing again, his legs falling further apart and his eyes rolling back, and _god,_ Harley isnt gonna last like this, can feel himself building up to the edge just from watching, just from seeing Peter do the same.

He does a few quick thrusts of his fingers, swearing again as he feels the tightness loosen, as he hears Peter crying his name, and he grabs the condom with his free, trembling hand, ripping the package open with his teeth and pushing his own pants down to pull it on. He makes sure, one last time makes sure that Peter is ready, truly ready, _he won't let this hurt, he won't, he never has and he's not starting now_ , before he pulls out his fingers, ignoring Peters whimper at the loss, lines himself up, and pushes pushes pushes in. And then, everything is forgotten, his name, where they are, the rain pounding onto the plastic covering above them, all of it is gone to the waves of pleasure flooding over him, the overwhelming warmth and tightness, still so so tight after everything, surrounding him, and it takes everything in himself to hold back, wait wait wait, as he asks, pants, "You okay?"

Peter nods quickly, looking out of sorts, his jaw dropped in awe and eyes unfocused, before he blinks a few times, remembering the thing they had agreed upon the first time they had done anything like this, anything sexual and intimate, _"I need verbal answers, especially for consent, okay sweetheart?"_ , and croaks out, "Yeah, yeah I'm good, I'm- move? Please move, please-" And Harley doesn't need to hear anything else, Peter words fading out into babbles as thrusts forward strongly, again, again, again, until the sounds of slapping skin outweighs the patter of rain, until Peter is screaming for him just as he wanted, yearned, _ached_ for earlier, tears rolling down his cheeks of pure unfiltered pleasure and Harley can't help his own noises, his own moans and groans as he pushes forward harder, faster, one hand grabbing at Peter's thigh and folding forward to gain more access, more range, to change the angle and make sure he's hitting that sweet spot every time he slams forward, and then Peter is reaching, reaching up and intertwining his fingers with Harley's and _god_ Harley loves him, he loves him so much, he's not gonna last, he's not gonna- gonna- _shit, fuck-_

He barely hears the wail of his name over the blood rushing in his ears, but he feels the warm liquid shoot own over his chest, splattering onto his chin and onto Peter's own face and he feels Peter squeezing around him, sees his face, sees his pleasure, fuck shit fuck fuck _fuck_ \- and then Harley is gone, too, ramming into Peter once, twice, before rutting against him and biting into his shoulder, silently screaming his release, his mind fizziling out into mind numbing pleasure, whiting out for multiple tingling, warming moments.

He comes back slowly, slowly falling from his high, gasping eagerly into Peter's shoulder, feeling Peter doing the same beneath him, _around_ him, all loose limbs and heavy pants. He pulls back, seeing with a wince the dark purple bruise he left behind, pressing a light, light butterfly kiss to it before hes continuing upwards, to Peter's jaw, his tear stained cheeks, all over Peter's washed, drained, but content features, his chest still heaving for breath but much more loose than he was before, practically a rag doll underneath Harley's touch. His eyelashes flutter, before he blinks his eyes open, warm caramel staring back into stormy blues before Peter gives him a faint, but bright smile, so easy, carefree and loving, adoring that Harley can't help but to press a gentle, soothing kiss to his bruised lips, murmuring, "I love you,"

"I love you too," Peter whispers back as he pulls away, his eyes half closed in his clear exhaustion, and Harley feels it too, feels the heaviness tugging at his limbs, so he slowly, carefully pulls out before tugging off his t shirt and using it as a towel, wiping away all of the excess liquid on their bodies, throwing it away and pulling Peter to his chest once done. Peter snuggles in, nose brushing against the underside of Harleys jaw, and sighs contently, quickly falling asleep from one breath to the next. And Harley, he watches for a few more moments, watches his boyfriends chest rise and fall for a few more seconds before closing his eyes and giving in to the lulls of sleep too, his last thought being that, maybe, _maybe_ this trip wasn't so bad, after all.


End file.
